Week Seven:Â Starting at the Brooklyn Museum, take the 2 or 3 train 10 stops uptown to Park Place. Get off and walk through World Trade Center station. Catch the Newark bound PATH train to Journal Square, walk through Little Indiaâabout 15 minsâand youâve arrived. Nestled in Jersey City and tucked away from the cacophony of New York lies Mana Contemporary, a 1920s tobacco warehouse turned every creativesâ dream. It encompasses studios and exhibition spaces for artists and serves as a vibrant hub for creativity.
Nerissa Cooney, who serves as the Director of Public Engagement, met us around noon. Unless youâve done your research prior to visiting, you would have no clue of what went on inside of Mana Contemporary. Nerissa briefed us on Manaâs history and took us to the boiler room which also doubles as an industrial gallery.
We entered the vast, 4000 square foot room which was reminiscent of the industrial revolution and its working class. Stanley Sudol, Director of Mana Urban Arts Projects (MUAP), introduced himself and shed light on the programâs vision. The project is designed for large-scale, site-specific installations by world-renowned street artists. Its goal is to support the art community by highlighting artists whose works can get overlooked.
Stan pointed us in the direction of a gloomy vignette featuring a woman lying on her back, wearing a black bodysuit, confined by a sidewalk grate. Her left arm winded behind her head and her face rested in her armpit. Her knees were bent in the air while the soles of her feet, dressed in a strapped pump style heel, were planted on the ground. Lethargy radiated behind her closed eyes.
It wasnât noticeable upon entry, but once I saw it, I couldnât break my gaze. This life-sized installation was one of five from, Brooklyn based street artist, Dan Witzâs mini-retrospective A Modest Sunday Morning. According to Stan, Witz captured his subjects when they were at their most vulnerable, that is, twelve hours after a night of escapades riddled with self-indulgence. Works are scattered throughout the nooks and crevices of the boiler room and illuminated by the sordid, red lights evocative of a dimly lit city.
A Modest Sunday Morning evokes the uncanny phrase, âTheyâll find you where Iď¸ leave you.â Amongst the pictured contorted and writhed bodies, a feeling of neglect and slight discomfort is garnered not only for the characters who hide behind the grates, but for their seemingly forgotten narratives as well. The questions, âWho are they and how did they get here?â are raised.
Witzâs surrealist installation uses the mind as a medium as he taps into an unconscious reality. Iď¸ didnât find the work particularly striking compared to the thoughts that it provoked as A Modest Sunday Morning made me consider the people, right in front of me, who are seemingly forgotten. I thought of the people who actually sleep on the street and, considering this is street art presumably designed for public locations, Iď¸ wondered if this work would get more attention than an actual person in need of assistance on the street. The norm, in New York City at least, is to ignore people asking for help. Why?
On the way home from Mana, I realized that A Modest Sunday Morning prompted me to physically step out of the city in order to raise questions of the inner-workings of the city. Iď¸ donât know that this was Dan Witzâs intention, but this is where it led meâartâs supposed to take you places, right?
Posted by Autumn HarrisÂ